


Succor

by draculard



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Egg Laying, Fingering, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Oviposition, Royal Imperial Academy, Urethral Play, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: During their time together at Royal Imperial, Thrawn develops a bit of a personal problem.Maybe Eli can help.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Comments: 14
Kudos: 124





	Succor

Over the past three minutes, Thrawn had shifted aimlessly in his seat no less than seven times — Eli was keeping count from his own desk across the room. The first few times it had happened, he barely noticed, but now it was completely distracting him from his work. Thrawn hardly ever fidgeted, and he hardly ever had an _expression_ , either — his face was always carefully, unreadably blank. 

Except now.

Sitting at his desk, Thrawn’s eyebrows were drawn down in an intensely dark expression. His eyes were set on his datapad, fingers clasped tightly around the edges of it, lips pulled down in a frown. Whatever he was reading, it wasn’t pleasing him, Eli supposed. But there wasn’t much he could think of to explain the fidgeting.

When Thrawn shifted again, moving his thighs up and down subtly for the eighth time before the four-minute mark passed on Eli’s chrono, he just _had_ to say something. He switched his datapad off and swiveled in his seat to face Thrawn.

“Hey,” he said. “Uh … you okay?”

 _Eloquent_ , he thought with a wince. Thrawn didn’t so much as glance at him.

“I am fine,” he said.

Eli studied what he could see of Thrawn’s face. He didn’t _look_ fine. His jaw was tight, a muscle jumping in his cheek. 

“You sure?” Eli asked.

He thought Thrawn would just blow him off again. Instead, with a sharp inhale, Thrawn turned to face him. His eyes flickered down Eli’s face and then away again; his lips parted as he prepared himself to speak. Still, it was a long moment before anything came out.

“Are humans … shy?” he asked.

Well, _that_ wasn’t the answer Eli expected. He brightened up a little and opened his mouth to respond.

“About sex?” Thrawn finished.

Eli’s bright expression disappeared. He stared at Thrawn in horror; Thrawn just stared back at him, unfazed.

“You’re not … propositioning me, are you?” asked Eli cautiously, leaning back against his desk.

“No,” said Thrawn. Eli relaxed a little.

“Well, _some_ humans are shy about sex,” he said, eyeing Thrawn’s datapad with newfound curiosity. “But not all of us. As a species, it’s hard to say. Some people are shy, some people aren’t. Introverts versus extroverts, you know.” He studied Thrawn, attempting futilely to read his face. “Why?” he asked. “Did you ask someone out?”

Thrawn actually seemed to grimace at that. Probably thinking about their mostly-pimply, mostly-teenage classmates. “No,” he said. “I ask because I’ve been searching for information on the HoloNet for several days now, and I’ve had trouble finding anything useful.”

Now that … didn’t sound right. Putting aside the question of _why_ Thrawn wanted to know about human sex in its many forms, Eli couldn’t figure out any good reason why the information shouldn’t be on the HoloNet. Last he’d checked, there was plenty of information on sex available there. _Too_ _much_ information, actually. Was it an issue with the language barrier, perhaps?

“What sort of information were you looking for?” he asked.

Abruptly, Thrawn looked away. He fiddled with his datapad, then sucked in a deep breath and glanced at Eli again, as if he’d summoned up his courage and was now ready to speak.

“What do humans do when they need to lay eggs?” he asked in a rush.

There was an odd, almost desperate edge to his voice. Eli stared at him, mouth open, eyes wide. It took him a long moment to find the words he needed.

“Humans … don’t lay eggs,” he said delicately. When Thrawn only continued to stare at him, now with a note of misery lining his face, Eli said, “I mean, we don’t … we don’t reproduce like that. Is that what you’ve been trying to find information on?”

Thrawn only turned back to his datapad. Eli watched him as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down too hard for Eli’s comfort.

“Do _Chiss_ lay eggs?” asked Eli. 

Thrawn didn’t respond. He darkened his datapad’s screen with a flick of his thumb, stared blankly at his own reflection, and then turned it back on again. He didn’t seem inclined to look anything up; he only stared at the screen. 

Well, Eli supposed that was all the answer he needed. He gave Thrawn a quick, dubious once-over, trying to picture how exactly this egg-laying might go down.

“How’s that work, exactly?” he asked, trying not to sound as awkwardly curious as he felt. “I mean, you don’t look…”

“Uncomfortable?” Thrawn said darkly. “Trust me. I am.”

What Eli had _actually_ planned to say was ‘pregnant,’ but he was fine with ‘uncomfortable.’ 

“So … it hurts?” he asked.

Thrawn shifted in his seat; his cheeks were flushed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Ah. So Chiss _were_ shy about sex, apparently. Or at least, Thrawn was … though Eli supposed he couldn’t blame him in this particular instance. He craned his neck, trying to make eye contact with Thrawn to no avail.

“I get if you don’t wanna tell me,” he said gently, “but I have to ask....”

Thrawn gave him a look full of dread and waited for the question.

“Who’d you have sex with?” Eli asked. 

Thrawn’s lips twisted. “What?”

“Well, if you’re… you know... in _egg-laying_ mode...”

“I didn’t—” Thrawn cut himself off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work like that, Cadet Vanto. It happens whether I — that is, it happens to _Chiss_ regardless of whether they’ve—”

He gestured wordlessly. All sense of regal confidence seemed to be gone, and Eli couldn’t help but notice that the discussion apparently embarrassed Thrawn so much that he couldn’t even talk about it in first-person terms. He leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on the desktop, hands clasped at the nape of his neck; Eli could see his thighs tensing uncomfortably beneath the desk.

“So what do Chiss do?” asked Eli. “When they need to lay eggs?”

He did his best to say ‘lay eggs’ matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t think it was weird at all. 

“It’s …” Thrawn sat up straight again, scooting in closer to his desk. His thighs tensed and relaxed again, coming together tightly, Eli noticed. “There are supplements given to military service members so that they do not experience it. During my exile, I was given a supply as an act of mercy, but…”

But Thrawn hadn’t been allowed to keep any of his possessions, Eli realized. In fact, he wasn’t sure anyone on Parck’s ship had even considered giving him that courtesy; Eli had assumed there was nothing in that makeshift hut Thrawn considered worth keeping.

Across the room, Thrawn closed his eyes. A moment later, a shiver wracked his body, making his shoulders quake. Eli felt his mingled sense of curiosity and amusement fade all at once, replaced with a sharp stab of sympathy. 

“It looks like it hurts,” he murmured.

Thrawn bowed his head, his lips forming a thin line. “It _starts_ to hurt, after a while,” he said, eyes tight. 

“Well, is there anything I can do?” asked Eli, eyebrows furrowed. “I mean, I can fetch you a painkiller, or — or a muscle relaxer, or—”

“The eggs can only be passed through stimulation,” Thrawn said, his voice clipped. “Pain relievers don’t work. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to…” He made a circular gesture with his hand; the heat in his cheeks seemed to increase. “That’s why I wondered how humans…”

“You’ve been trying to deal with this for _days_ now?” Eli asked, remembering Thrawn’s earlier comment. And pushing the fact that Thrawn had apparently been secretly masturbating for _days_ out of his mind. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Thrawn cast him a disbelieving glance. “It’s rather a private matter, Cadet.”

“Yeah, but what happens if you can’t pass them?” Eli asked, waving aside Thrawn’s concerns. “You don’t look _great_ right now, if you don’t mind me saying. You should’ve asked for help earlier.”

“What are _you_ going to do to help?” Thrawn said, his tone flat and exasperated.

Eli said nothing. He watched as Thrawn tried and failed to sit still in his seat, squirming from the pressure in his lower abdomen. 

“I dunno,” said Eli lowly, glancing away. “What will you _let_ me do?”

Slowly, Thrawn turned to look at him. There was a raw hunger in his eyes, a desperation that couldn’t be hidden. 

“Will you…?” he started. The column of his throat shifted as he swallowed, averting his gaze. “Will you…”

Eli didn’t need Thrawn to finish that sentence. He crossed the room quietly and quickly; grabbing the back of Thrawn’s chair, he pulled it out from the desk and scanned Thrawn’s body, from his flushed cheeks to his downcast eyes. His uniform was pristinely buttoned, and that was the first thing Eli determined to change.

As soon as his fingers closed around the top button, Thrawn straightened up and started to help him, unbuttoning the tunic far more economically than Eli had envisioned. There was a nervous edge to Thrawn’s actions, like he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible — and judging from the lines of discomfort around his eyes, this was probably true. 

Eli could work with that.

Inch by inch, Thrawn revealed his chest and abdomen to Eli. There was nothing unusual about it that Eli could see, except that low on Thrawn’s abdomen — right above the waistband of his trousers — there was a slight tremor in his stomach muscles, like an unstoppable flinch. 

That was where Eli touched him first, laying his palm flat against Thrawn’s stomach. He watched Thrawn’s face closely, searching for any hint that he was doing the right thing, but the only sign he got was Thrawn’s eyes fluttering closed.

Tentatively, Eli moved his hand lower, cupping Thrawn through his pants. “You’re hard,” he noted.

Thrawn’s eyes opened again, pinning Eli with an unimpressed, sardonic look. He brushed Eli’s hands aside and unzipped his trousers with a businesslike manner; his cock, once freed, lay thick and heavy against his stomach. The size of it made Eli’s mouth run dry. 

“Uh…” he said.

“You don’t have to suck it,” said Thrawn urgently, guiding Eli’s hand to the base. “I don’t need to—” He sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t need you to do that for me. Just … _help_.”

Blushing furiously, Eli wrapped his fingers around the base of Thrawn’s cock. It was shaped more or less like his own, he thought, but where Thrawn’s testicles should have been, there was a smooth fold of skin instead. Eli eyed it almost suspiciously, suddenly certain that he knew where the eggs were coming from. 

“Please?” said Thrawn, the word barely audible. “I can’t…”

He closed his eyes — in pain or in embarrassment, Eli couldn’t be sure.

“Okay,” said Eli, tightening his fingers around the base. “Tell me if I’m doing this right.”

The only response he got was a sharp inhale as he moved his hand up the length of Thrawn’s cock, squeezing hard. Thrawn’s hips twitched, his left leg jerking up at the knee in a strange manner — like he was flinching at Eli’s touch, but simultaneously didn’t want to spread his legs too far apart. Eli ran his hand up Thrawn’s cock again, pressing his palm against the head before moving back down again rapidly.

Thrawn’s back arched, his head tipping back against the chair. But the expression on his face wasn’t necessarily one of joy or release; his jaw was clenched so tightly Eli feared his teeth might shatter, and his lip was curled, like a wounded animal snarling at anyone who approached it.

“Uh, am I doing this right?” Eli asked.

Thrawn’s breath hitched; he pressed himself back against the chair and spread his legs a little, his fingers clenching tightly on the edge of his seat.

“I—” he gasped, not opening his eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve never—”

Eli let go of Thrawn’s cock, a little disappointed when Thrawn didn’t lift his hip or try to follow Eli’s hand as he moved away. Maybe that was the wrong approach, he decided. He put his hands on Thrawn’s trembling thighs and spread them farther, taking a good look at the slit beneath his cock. The folds were closed, showing Eli nothing, but he could see a shimmer of moisture on the inside of Thrawn’s thighs where they’d been clamped tightly together just moments before.

Some sort of natural lubricant, Eli realized. He touched it lightly, smearing it over his finger before lifting it to his lips. The taste was no different from human cum — a little tangy, but not unpleasant at all. 

“Is this where the eggs come from?” Eli asked, returning his attention to the slit. He ran his finger over the soft skin between Thrawn’s legs, his touch so light that it was barely there. He kept one hand on Thrawn’s thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles, distracting Thrawn before he touched the slit again.

“Yes,” Thrawn breathed, keeping his head angled up so Eli couldn’t entirely see his face. 

“Then I should focus my attention here, yes?” Eli said. He moved his hands away, and this time Thrawn _did_ react, his hips rocking forward in search of contact. 

“I think—” Thrawn paused and took a quick breath, steadying his voice. “I think that’s wise.” 

Eli nodded, holding Thrawn still. He gave Thrawn a moment to catch his breath and stop squirming, and then he ran his finger over the folds again, softly tracing them, all the time pretending he didn’t notice the twitches and gasps of reaction from Thrawn.

He stroked the soft skin there, keeping his touch light but sure. Slowly, he worked out a pattern, running the pads of his fingers from one end of the slit to the next, repeating the motion again and again. He put indirect pressure anywhere he felt Thrawn might like to be touched more firmly, skimming his fingers lightly over each sensitive spot until Thrawn was working his hips in search of more friction.

His legs spread, stretching farther apart until his feet were stationed on either side of the chair. Eli paused, placing his palm flat against the slit beneath Thrawn’s cock, feeling the heat coming off Thrawn in waves. Then, just as Thrawn’s breath started hitching, he pulled his hand away and, with two fingers, teased the slit open.

He stopped at once, his breath catching in his throat. Where he’d expected to find a slick and needy hole, there was instead a hard, convex ridge, light blue in color and coated in the same natural lubricant that had stained Thrawn’s thighs. Eli paused, then touched it lightly, skimming over the hard surface of it — and there was no response from Thrawn.

“You can’t feel this?” Eli asked. Then understanding dawned on him, and he felt like a massive idiot. “Is this your…?”

Panting, Thrawn tipped his head down, looking at the exposed slit between his legs. He nodded breathlessly and looked away again.

“Well, you’re awful close, aren’t you,” said Eli. He ran his thumb over the edge of the egg, just barely touching the stretched rim of Thrawn’s hole as he did so. Thrawn flinched — yes, _flinched_ — violently away at the touch, a strangled sound falling from his lips. 

“Too much?” Eli asked, pressing his thumb down just a little harder.

“I—” Thrawn gasped. “Yes, but I—”

Keeping up the pressure, Eli rotated his thumb along the edge of the egg, his other hand ghosting over the tender flesh inside Thrawn’s folds as he did so. The slick wetness coming from between Thrawn’s legs made every motion smooth and quick, and Eli could apply more and more pressure without losing the teasing pattern he’d built up. He coaxed Thrawn’s legs farther apart, exposing as much of him as he could, and then pulled on his hips until he was angled just right, so Eli could see the crowning egg perfectly from his spot between Thrawn’s knees.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, running his fingers around the rim. He put his free hand on Thrawn’s stomach, felt his abs quivering with strain. 

Thrawn nodded, apparently unable to speak. He leaned into Eli’s touch wantonly, apparently past the point of self-consciousness or shyness. 

“You want release, don’t you?” Eli asked, his voice coming out low and husky. He pressed his fingers against the rim of Thrawn’s hole, pushing gently but firmly, stretching it wider. The egg pushed out another centimeter to fill the space Eli had made. “I think I’ve got an idea for that,” Eli said.

And, keeping his hands on Thrawn’s hole, he leaned up on his knees and opened his mouth, taking Thrawn’s cock as deep as he could go. It bobbed against the back of his throat, forcing him to work through his gag reflex and swallow; eyes closed, Eli felt Thrawn buck beneath his hands, strangling a groan before it could quite come out. 

He pulled back a little, stretching his jaw to accommodate Thrawn’s cock, and ran his tongue over the head, pushing into the slit there. This time, Thrawn couldn’t stifle a moan; it came out low and keening and desperate, and he pressed himself harder against Eli’s fingers than ever before, thrusting his cock deep into Eli’s mouth.

Eli could feel the egg pushing against his hand, Thrawn’s hole stretched wider and wider by the pressure of it. His thighs shook, abs shuddering against the desire to push before he was ready. Eli pulled back and sank down again, taking the cock deep once more and then bobbing up and down, sucking it almost entirely to the back of his throat before swallowing — just enough to tighten his throat canal against Thrawn’s cock — and coming back up again for air. 

He swirled his tongue over the head of Thrawn’s cock again, once again dipping as far as he could into the slit. The salty taste of pre-cum was everywhere, coating Thrawn’s cock and Eli’s lips. When he glanced up through his eyelashes, he saw Thrawn’s head thrown back, his chest heaving as he struggled for air.

Eli took him again, this time taking the cock so deep that he could bury his nose in Thrawn’s skin and feel his stomach muscles quivering against Eli’s forehead. He swallowed once, twice, felt fingers curl in the hair at the back of his neck, and—

And then, with another long, low moan, Thrawn came. His entire body seemed to tighten like a whipcord, cum shooting down Eli’s throat in a sudden gush. He felt the egg disappear beneath his fingers as Thrawn’s muscles clenched around it — and around Eli’s fingers, too, slipping inside of Thrawn just in time to feel the tension and heat of orgasm all around him.

There was a pause, just long enough for a breath or two, and then Thrawn relaxed again, relaxed more than Eli had ever seen him. With his head tipped back, he groaned once, tensing his abdomen, and the egg slid out with ease into the palm of Eli’s hand. He glanced at, a little awed by the width, and thoroughly understood why Thrawn had looked so uncomfortable when he’d finally broken down and asked for help. 

Leaning forward, and ignoring the egg for now, Eli pressed his lips against Thrawn’s thigh, peppering little open-mouthed kisses from one leg to the next, and over Thrawn’s softening cock, and his lower stomach. He didn’t stop until, glancing up, he saw some semblance of coherence returning to Thrawn’s eyes.

“Thank you, Cadet Vanto,” said Thrawn, sounding dazed.

Eli snorted at that and shook his head. “You’re welcome, Lieutenant,” he said a bit sarcastically. “Always happy to help.”


End file.
